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EPISODE 7 : THE GIRL WITH THE SAWFISH TATTOO ( Your Lips, My Lips )
THE SWEET SPRING wind had been too good to pass, and even before they went back into Nojiko's quaint and cozy home, Roronoa Zoro and Estrella Narváez find themselves unable to enter through the door.
Something tugs them back, an aching, grating sensation against their entire beings - Through that door is another dilemma, another problem in need of solving, another warm human body in need of comforting.
Estrella and Zoro share a look of agreement, and instead of doing the normal action of heading back inside, they find themselves situated comfortably against the old wooden exterior, hidden behind the shadows of the house just large enough to hide their bodies from the flickering porch lamp. The taller of the two slumps further into himself, pressing his back gingerly against the planks in fear of hearing a creak from the old wood.
Estrella takes a comfortable position against the soft blades of grass that tickle her fingertips. She feels secluded; A sort of silence that makes her feel almost secure.
The frigid wind gently tickles her cheeks as it eases around Estrella's body, the only path of warmth being the closeness of Zoro's arm pressing against her own, grounding her from being swept away by the pull of the cold breeze and the need to consume sleep in the growing darkness.
( Subconsciously, she leans towards that warmth. It's too inviting, too sweet ).
The rattle of the green-haired man's quiet breaths reverberates in Estrella's head, decorating the obviousness of their distance - Or lack of.
"Why are we hiding?" He whispers, ducking his head to meet his lips inches away from Estrella's warm ears. His breath is intoxicating, too hot against her skin. She shivers.
The bounty hunter turns her head to look into the man's dark brown eyes, blinking slightly at the jarring closeness of his piercing gaze. Chocolate brown hues blink back at her expectantly, slightly chapped lips poised into a small frown. The curve of his lashes is so prominent that if given the time, Estrella would be able to count each individual lash.
"I don't know." She whispers in return, directing her gaze to the white bandages that poke beneath Zoro's loose button up. "I was just following you."
The man squints, bringing a hand to his tousled green hair. He scratches his scalp, twisting his gaze to fluctuate between the woman staring at him earnestly through golden-sheened irises and the cold, hard, ground.
They fall into a soft silence, listening to the muffled words from the other side of the wooden wall. Estrella wonders if the people inside can hear their voices.
